Funestine and Other Adventures in Romancia

by Brian Stableford

  “Exhibitors of curiosities do work of a rather amusing kind. It’s a mass of various curious things that hey import from far places. That’s why they were given their name. When the material with which they work is too ingrate in itself they find the art of augmenting and ornamenting their tableau with various more interesting objects, which they present one after another, such as the map of London, the court of Portugal, the government of Venice and the temples of Rome, much as an exhibitor of curiosities enables you to see in his box the city of Constantinople, the Empress of Russia, the court of Peking and the port of Amsterdam.

  “Those,” said Prince Zazaraph, “are almost all the different species of workers who labor in this land; but let’s go into their habitation in order to see them at closer range, for I’m sure that the sight will amuse you.”

  In fact, I was charmed by the neatness and admirable order that I saw in the distribution of the shops. The different species of workers are divided into different streets, and each street is formed by little shops arranged in rows to either side, adjacent to one another, similar to the celebrated fairs of Europe; that makes a very agreeable spectacle, and, if one wishes, a very amusing promenade. I particularly admired the variety and singularity of the signs, and even remember a few, like the Blue Beard, the Amorous Cat, the Seven-League Boots, the Talking Portrait, the Good Little Mouse, the Green Serpent, the Unfortunate Neapolitan and a few others of the same stripe.33

  All the workers are, in addition, extremely polite and obliging, in order to attract the curious and merchants into their establishments, and there is nothing that they would not do to make their merchandise shine. If they can be believed, their work is always admirable, singular and curious. This, says one, is the fruit of a long and painful labor. This, says another, is a precious residue of a worker who left a great reputation when he died. This, says a third, is an imitation of a Chinese or Indian work, much sought-after. For myself, says a seemingly disinterested merchant, I had no desire to communicate my work, but, my friends and persons of good taste having seen it, pressed me so hard to share it with the public that I was unable to rest their solicitations. They accompany these discourses with manners so honest and polished that one can scarcely help buying something, at the hazard of paying dear for poor merchandise, as often happens.

  Hazard having taken us first to the threaders’ quarter, I was curious to explore a few of the shops with Prince Zazaraph, for it would require an entire year to explore them all. I admired veritably the skill with which I saw those workers stitching together a thousand petty trifles. A very thin thread sufficed for that, and their skill consists of making the thread last until the end without breaking, for if it has to be renewed, or another added, the work no longer has the same value.

  The shop that seemed to me to have the most customers had for its sign The Thousand-and-One Nights. The worker, it is said, is one of the most celebrated in the quarter. As his sign has had success, a few others workers have not failed to imitate it, in the hope of succeeding equally. One has taken The Thousand-and-One Days, another The Thousand-and-One Hours, another The Thousand-an-One Quarter-Hours. Their thread is, in fact, almost the same, but they could not have been as lucky as the first in the choice of trifles. I also noticed a few more distinguished signs, like the Breton Evenings, Evenings in Thessaly, Chinese Tales, etc. But those workers, it is said, have more fecundity than strength of imagination. Too feeble to undertake a work on a single subject, they only have resource is multitude, like a man who, not having enough cloth to make a suit, composes it from various assorted pieces, a medley that only ever does the worker mediocre honor.

  The quarter of blowers has been almost deserted for some time, because few workers are found who have sufficient breath to furnish that labor. It seems that Cyrus was their favorite sign; at least, several have appropriated it, and each one has returned it in his fashion. A few of those gentlemen, finding that the prince as a subject appropriate to bring customers into their shop, have obliged him, without consulting his inclination, to travel the world as an adventurer, in order to bring back curious materials from foreign lands appropriate to be put to work.34 It has not been decided whether he came back a better man, but one cannot doubt that after such long journeys he needed to spend some time in retreat, and he was fortunate to find a new master, a intelligent and charitable man, who took the poor prince into his home uniquely to enable him to take a rest.35

  “Some time ago,” Prince Zazaraph told me, “one of those rare and sublime geniuses appeared in this quarter, of the kind that nature scarcely produces once every hundred years. He conceived that the work that you see these workers doing might be of some help in forming the heart and mind of young princes, if it were done well and handled with art and wisdom. He set out to give his model of it. His sign was The Prince of Ithaca.36 This place, which, as you can see has been consecrated to him, out of respect to his memory, as the place where he worked. It is true that he made a masterpiece that one cannot weary of reading, in which he found the art of mingling together everything there is of the most cheerful and the most gracious, with all that wisdom and religion have of the most perfect and sublime. It is that work which ought to serve today as the model for all workers, and some have, indeed, striven to imitate it, but one is reduced to praising their efforts while always being obliged to pity their weakness.”

  In the same quarter, the prince pointed out to me a few shops that were somewhat accredited. I remember two of them in particular. The first had Prince Sethos for a sign, and, to judge the prince by his portrait, he was a man of intelligence, who could only be reproached for too strong an application to the study of antiquity. The second was occupied by a female worker of a delicate and solid mind who had acquired a considerable reputation in a short time. Her sign was the Court of Philippe Auguste,37 and the haste of the public to purchase her works having already emptied the shop, she as working on a new one that was awaited with impatience.

  I did not find anything in the street of embroiderers that struck me very forcefully. “These workers,” Prince Zazaraph told me, “having insufficient talent to create something new themselves, earn their living enlivening things already known, which appear too simple in themselves. Thus, they work on a foreign foundation, and they have the art of charging it so abundantly with their embroidery that once can no longer distinguish the backcloth from that which is only the ornamentation, but it is rather rare for their work to make a fortune. Here is a shop which has the sign Don Carlos, the worker of which is esteemed, but here is another, whose worker had not had as much success in the design to amuse, although his sign promises historic amusements.”

  “What!” I said to the prince. “Do I not see there the worker from foreign climes known as P.L.? What is he doing here?”38

  “What he does,” he replied. “He figures very well among our embroiderers and is now one of the most accredited. It’s true that he seemed at first to want to establish himself in the land of History, and did indeed set up shop there, but he found that it suited him better to make frequent excursions to Romancia; he did that so often that one never knows to which country his works belong, and I believe one can say, in truth, that it is mixed merchandise.

  “But I forgot,” he added, “to draw your attention to one of our most beautiful shops.” He pointed it out to me. “There it is. It has for a sign, as you see, The Princess of Cleves,39 and the worker enjoys, justly, a great reputation for never having lost sight, in an extremely delicate work, of the rules of duty and the most austere decorum.”

  From there we passed into the quarter of menders. They are, as I said, the least esteemed workers in Romancia. What merit is there, in fact, in adapting for a Frenchman, for example, a work made for an Englishman or a Spaniard, or in reducing for a supposedly modern taste works made for an antique taste? So it is rather rare that such works make any reputation for their authors. It is not for that reason, however, that their quarter is almost deserted; that is the f
ault of the Romancian police, to fix everyone within the bounds of his métier. All the workers dabble in mending, with the result there is hardly one who, in the merchandise he presents to you as new had not mingled a few old morsels, which he had dressed up and recycled in his own fashion; it is for that reason that menders in title do hardly any business, and it is precisely the same for the illuminators. Everyone dabbles in their métier, including the workers in the land of History.

  The lanterners, or makers of magic lanterns, amused us for some time. Those workers have an extremely fecund imagination; he never fail to regulate it by means of common sense and plausibility, for there is no invention so bizarre that they cannot discover and execute it, or appear to execute it, with a surprising facility. Ask them for flying chariots, silver palaces, arms which render one invulnerable, secrets for knowing anything whatsoever and everything that is said for a thousand leagues around, charms for making oneself loved, statues that come to life, instant bridges, ships or gardens, giants, animals that talk, mountains of gold, silver and precious stones—nothing costs them anything, with the consequence that in the blink of an eye, their shop is full of marvels. It is true that when one considers their works at close range, it is easy to perceive that they are only trinkets, which have nothing solid or estimable, and I could not help testifying to Prince Zazaraph that I could not understand how those workers were able to find buyers for such merchandise, but he corrected my error.

  “If the merchants of Europe,” he said, “who set out displays of dolls, whistles. Little windmills, little bells, grotesque figurines and a thousand similar trinkets that are bought for children earn their living by means of that commerce, why don’t you want these to be as fortunate? For you can see that their shops and their merchandise resemble one another perfectly. It can even be observed that the majority of people who occupy themselves with Romancian handiwork are idle and slack minds who want to be amused, like children, because they do not have the strength to occupy themselves with their own thoughts or give sufficient application to the thoughts of others. Propose to them something to meditate, an argument to fathom, or even a reflection to make and you overload them, you bore them, like children to whom a lesson for study is proposed, instead of which a series of pretty toys that are passed incessantly before their eyes diverts them and amuses them without fatiguing them.

  “That is what determines the large sales of this merchandise; the workers can scarcely furnish enough of it, and as soon as a new magic lantern appears, or a new toy, it is snatched from their hands. It’s necessary, however, to admit one thing, which is that as soon as the initial curiosity is satisfied, the same thing happens to those work as toys that are abandoned or broken, they are left neglected in an apartment, without anyone thinking of conserving them, and their usual fate is eventually to be thrown out pell-mell with the rubbish.

  “We have now arrived,” Prince Zazaraph went on, “in the quarter of exhibitors of curiosities. Their shops are rather fine, as you can see, and even quite rich. It’s also true that they don’t lack customers, but in spite of that, they are not highly considered, because they only work as subalterns, in accordance with what other workers order from them: sometimes the plan of a city, sometimes a portrait, a description, a battle, a tourney, or some singular event to fill the lacunae in their work or to fatten them.”

  While we were considering the various curiosities with which the shops of that quarter were garnished, however, we were distracted by a comical troupe of clowns and street performers of every sort, who came into the main square in order to enact a comedy of sorts. The spectacle amused me and I found wit in the invention and execution of the play. A certain Ragotin40 played one of the principal roles in it with someone named Rancune, and he never appeared on stage without making the spectators laugh heartily, as much by his ridiculous and comical appearance as by the pleasantries he pronounced. The entire play seemed to me to be the work of an intelligent man, and I was told that he author had made even better ones.

  That spectacle was followed by a short play entitled “Le Diable boiteux,”41 which also obtained a great deal of applause. It was in one act, apparently because it did not require more, for I dare say that the author would not have embellished it in wanting to stretch it out. Another play by the same author was promised for the following day, entitled “Gil Blas de Santillane” but I heard the people standing next to me saying that although it had wit and some go things in it, it was not as good as the first.

  Finally, I saw a surly masquerade appear, composed of people disguised as vagabonds and adventurers, whom I heard named as Lazarille de Tormes, Dom Guzman d’Alfarache, the adventurer Buscon and other similar names.42 Prince Zazaraph warned me, however, that only the populace and people of poor taste usually remained for that final performance.

  I did, in fact, remark that all the honest people were retiring, and I did the same with my faithful interpreter. That was not without difficulty, however, for while we were retiring a multitude of other masks arrived, who were named as he blue band, and had at their head a Gargantua, a Robert the Devil, Pierre de Provence, Richard sans peur, and other heroes of the same stripe. We had difficulty piercing the crowd in order to escape from such bad company.

  “Let’s go to the port,” the prince said to me. “We’ll surely see a few ships arriving there, and the spectacle is always rather curious. I also have a great interest in not being far away from it, since, as you know, I’m waiting for Princess Anemone, who ought to arrive very soon.”

  “I want to accompany you there,” I replied, “And I sense that it’s no longer in my power to separate myself from you; but please, explain to me beforehand what that singular building is that I perceive in that public square.”

  “That,” the replied, “is the building in which the archives of Romancia43 are kept. A rather poor work, as you can see. The portal, which is as large as the body of the building , is merely a bizarre assembly in which one sees neither method nor principles, and which offends common sense, so it has revolted all sensate minds. The body of the building is scarcely any better; it’s a mass of stones piled on top of one another without order or liaison; but one should not, after all, expect anything better on the part of the entrepreneur. He’s a man who was once held up as a great worker in the land of History; until then he had given a lesson to all the others and was erected as censor general; but boasting having succeeded poorly he threw himself in despair into Romancia, where he has been unable to find any other means of subsistence than representing himself as an architect. It is on that footing that he was employed to construct the building in question, but you can see by its execution that the pretended architect is only a mediocre mason.”

  “O gods” I cried at that moment, “What a frightful vapor! Great paladin, what pestilence is thus?”

  “Ah!” he said. “Let’s flee as quickly as possible and escape the infection.”

  We ran, in fact, and when we were far enough away, the prince said to me: “I had forgotten that it is necessary to avoid the street along which we just passed, unless one wants to risk being corrupted.” He added: “It is a young magic lanterner who has caused that infection. His name is Tancrebsai.44 He is the son of a father celebrated for fine works, who has not blushed to embrace the métier of lanterner, and because he is young and inexperienced, in wanting to make a new composition in order to paint his magic lantern, he made a drug so stinking that it was necessary to close his laboratory, and after he had been put in quarantine he was forbidden to work in that genre again.

  “But we’re nearing the port,” he said, then, “And I believe I can already see a few ships arriving. Let’s get nearer in order to study them at closer age and watch the disembarkation.”

  XIII. The arrival of a great fleet.

  Judgment of the newly disembarked.

  Scarcely had we arrived when we saw the port fill up with a large number of vessels that were hastening to enter it. Some were equipped with passports,45
others did not have them because they were doubtless carrying contraband, but they were not inspected very closely, and I saw them entering pell-mell with almost no attention paid to that difference, provided that they were not carrying anything pernicious.

  They were of all sizes, large and small. They were all distinguished by their flags, like the vessels of Europe, and above all by their devices and different names. I have difficulty remembering them all. There were The Four Facardins, Fleur d’Épine, the Mogul Tales, Tartar Tales, Madame de Barnevelt, the Constancy of True Loves, Aurora and Phoebus and several others, which made a very varied spectacle.

  “Alas,” said Prince Zazaraph, “I don’t see my dear Anemone yet, but a pleasant presentiment still makes me hope that she will arrive soon, and this delay at least leaves me the leisure to give you some clarifications of what you see.”

  “This beautiful fleet,” I said to him, “fills me with admiration and I doubt that the Greek fleet that came to snatch Helen from the arms of the amorous Paris was finer. But I don’t know what to think about another spectacle that I can see in preparation at the entrance to the port. What does that grave matron intend to do whom I see affecting the air of a magistrate and sitting down in a tribunal of sorts, accompanied by men and women who seem to be taking the place of assessors or counselors?”

  “It is, indeed,” he replied, “a genuine tribunal, and perhaps the most enlightened and mot equitable of all tribunals. This is its function. We have ship’s captains here who undertake long-haul voyages in order to enable our heroes and heroines to travel the world. They choose those who suit them, and they are allowed to direct their journeys as they please. Some are long and others shorter; some goes eastwards and some westwards; but in the end, it is necessary to return and give an account of their voyage. Now, that account is always very rigorous. The judge who sees you is incorruptible, and her council, made up of men and women, is very enlightened. It is not impossible to impose upon it for a time, but it soon recovers from its error and reforms its judgment itself.”